A Promise Between Brothers
by orangebiscotti
Summary: The two brothers were so alike, yet worlds apart. Maybe if they were born underneath different stars without the Silverberg family name things would've been different.


In which the Silverberg brothers struggle to see eye to eye.

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These are meant to be complementary pieces to my longer story, _Alternate Resave._ These side stories focus on other characters and events that don't directly relate to my main plot, but I still wanted to capture them in some fashion.

The contents of this chapter are based on a post made on July 29th, 2003—the very first post ever made in our group. Dedicated to Sam and Steph, because without either of you, none of this would exist.

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Albert decided the best thing about gazing into a cup of herbal tea was that everything staring back was tinted with a hue of honeyed gold instead of reflecting his true colors. Tea didn't care about his lineage or pedigree. Tea had no interest in his education and accomplishments. And the warm tint of amber glimmering in his cup washed out his hair's telltale shade of red that the Silverberg family was known for. He breathed in the scent. Iksay cornflower, holly berry, and peace of mind. His favorite blend.

The sun was almost completely overhead. Nearly noon, just as he expected.

_Any minute now._

"Enjoying yourself?"

A familiar face slid into the café chair opposite him. Looking into the eyes of his younger brother was another reflection of himself Albert wished a fine cup of tea could smooth over. Caesar was unmistakably a Silverberg, down to the thick eyebrows and crimson hair, but that was where the similarities between the brothers began and ended.

"Well?" Caesar cast him a sullen scowl, folding his arms and crossing a foot atop his knee. "Are you going to say something? Or just keep huffing that cup of tea? Who drinks hot tea in the middle of the summer anyways?"

Albert took a long, slow sip, savoring the last moment of peace before he engaged in conversation.

"I didn't _have_ to come here, you know. I _was_ traveling the world until someone decided to send me a carrier pigeon insisting we needed to talk. Damn thing even crapped on my head. I'm assuming that was a gift from you as well."

"Traveling the world, huh?" Albert peered up from his cup. Caesar's heavy-lidded stare was haggard, and he suspected it had little to do with the pigeon's present. "How did that pan out for you?"

The younger Silverberg glanced over his shoulder at the café counter. Budehuc's chef immediately spun around and resumed polishing her spatula collection with her back turned to them. Mamie's eavesdropping hadn't escaped Albert's notice either. "Well," Caesar said, "I _did_ find Mamie. Funny how traveling the world works. You run into people you didn't think you'd ever see again. I think she's putting her searching for that 'legendary cookbook' on hold for now. I tried to convince her otherwise, but she decided settling at Budehuc again was worthwhile if it meant possibly catching a glimpse of the legendary Albert Silverberg."

"So you're searching for cookbooks now, _Caesar_?"

"You and I both know that has nothing to do with my own travels, _Albert_."

The silence that fell between them was uncomfortable. But any silence between them was always uncomfortable. Albert expected no less. It was meant to be this way. Just like old times.

"Have I told you about my new hobby?" Albert asked.

"Oh, you have time for _hobbies_ now?"

"It's baking, if you're wondering."

"And you're getting on _my_ case about Mamie's cookbook? You've always been a hypocrite, Albert," Caesar shook his head. "I know you're not idling your time away in the kitchen. Rumor has it you're serving in the Harmonian army," he said. The disdain dripping from his voice was as thick as the honey swirling in Albert's cup of tea. "I assume that's a rumor you perpetuated yourself, seeing as how you're so skilled at distributing information."

"Is that so? Interesting."

"I knew it was a load of bunk the second I heard it."

"Silverbergs don't risk their lives on the front lines. We're military strategists, not foot soldiers. Of course it was a load of bunk."

His brother snorted. "No, I'm not stupid enough to imagine you actually putting yourself in danger. What I meant was that serving in any kind of armed forces requires a pledge."

"Yes, they typically do."

"A pledge, Albert. A _promise._ And we both know how good you are at keeping _those_."

"You seem to forget, _Caesar_," he tipped back the remainder of his tea, relishing in the second pause in their conversation, "We both made a promise. You broke your end of the bargain."

"Me? _Me_—?! Your 'cute little brother' learned the value of keeping promises the hard way. You're the one who told me I was too naïve, and that I didn't know how to lie to people to protect myself. Well, guess what?" Caesar leaned forward in his chair, his green eyes ablaze with indignation, "You were right. I _don't_ know how. And I haven't learned. I decided it's better to focus on protecting others instead of saving my own skin. I'd say it worked out pretty damn well considering _we_ won the war. There's more to strategy than cold numbers."

To anyone else, perhaps the sight of Caesar working himself up into a fervor might seem unusual. After all, the younger Silverberg was known for his laid-back demeanor. It was that same lazy attitude that brought nothing but trouble their entire childhood. There were only so many times Albert could make excuses on his brother's behalf for skipping out on lessons in favor of taking a nap atop a tree limb. And each excuse only made their grandfather angrier.

_What you don't know, little brother, is that I planned on making you break your promise from the start._

"I'm glad grandfather thought I was a poor role model for you, Caesar," he said. "But then again, I suspect he always knew what I was trying to do."

"And that was?"

"You still haven't figured it out? After all these years?"

"We both know _you_ were the smarter Silverberg, Albert. So no, I haven't figured it out. _Enlighten_ me. What was your grand strategy?"

There was something endearing about Caesar's frustration. For the briefest moment it felt as though they were seven years old again, standing in the courtyard of their homestead in the Crystal Valley and arguing over a coveted toy. Except this time, instead of redirecting Caesar's interests towards another toy, it was an entire life philosophy Albert hoped to steer his younger brother towards. And the fact that Caesar hadn't figured this out yet meant he pulled his strategy off with perfect success.

"Very well. I'll share," Albert folded his hands, studying the stitching of his gloves instead of making eye contact. "I wanted you to stay clear of the Silverberg 'family destiny.' I knew it wasn't right for you, so I simply… fixed things."

"Heh," Caesar ran a hand through his messy hair with a grunt. "How noble of you. So in order to _spare _me, you decided to hog the spotlight, is that it?"

"If keeping you out of things meant continuing the family legacy, yes. It wasn't easy. Don't act like you were living in my shadow. I had to work for my success. Not everyone can be a prodigy like you, Caesar."

"I'm sure whatever you suffered in 'trying to fix things' is none of my concern either."

"I did what was expected of me because I knew I would never amount to anything otherwise. I fought against the Silverberg destiny and made it my own."

"I fail to see how aiding an unhinged mage attempting to _destroy the world _is considered amounting to anything," Caesar spat. "Annihilating the True Runes? What kind of unified world would that bring? There wouldn't _be_ a world left to live in!"

"But they weren't destroyed. You saw to that."

"Not on my own accord. You were still pulling the strings, even from the shadows. Don't lie to yourself, Albert. I know you were feeding our army information. That pigeon you sent me for this meeting… it's Nash's, isn't it?"

Albert chuckled to himself. Of course it was Nash's pigeon. That was exactly why he sent it. The Harmonian spy proved to be a valuable resource during the Second Fire Bringer War. Securing his aid required little effort, and Albert knew Caesar would recognize Nash's pigeon and start connecting the dots. His brother would be unable to turn down an invitation knowing Nash was involved somehow, especially after the spy relayed important information to their army during the war.

_You should know me better than that, little brother. Did you honestly think I'd be so careless? This was all done for your benefit._

"And there you go, just sitting there and laughing," Caesar shoved his chair back and stood up, cramming his hands into his pockets. "But you know what? You're not the ultimate mastermind here. _They_ are. The whole Silverberg family is. And you played right into their hands. You did just what the family always wants. You even became an asshole, just like them. It's all a numbers game to you!"

"No, I think you're wrong. This is exactly what I wanted."

The sound of Caesar's chair scraping against the café's patio stones grabbed Mamie's attention. She slowly polished a single spatula with a dirty rag, failing to look unassuming in her eavesdropping. But their location, and the guaranteed presence of Budehuc's nosy, young cook, was all intentional. If the residents caught wind that Albert Silverberg and his younger brother attempted to reconcile over a cup of tea years after the war, it would assuredly create a buzz that would spread beyond the castle grounds… and eventually draw attention away from other foreign developments Albert was engaged in.

"You'll have to forgive me, _Albert_. I chose my own path. I guess I'll just continue being a disappointment to the family and a 'stupid little boy' instead of following whatever cold future the rest of you Silverbergs want."

"You're only stupid when you don't think about _why_ things happen to you. You sulk, and yet you don't even have all the facts."

"Thinking? Gathering facts? Funny. That sounds like something a _strategist_ would do. Which just so happens to be exactly what you were trying to _stop_ me from becoming by 'shielding me from the Silverberg destiny', if I'm hearing you right."

"No, Caesar. I wasn't. You broke your promise. I kept mine."

"We promised _each other_, Albert!" Caesar's voice cracked with emotion. "We promised we'd become great strategists! Mind telling me how I broke that? If it's because I accepted _your_ intel, that's a tactic any strategist would use if it meant minimizing casualties. These are _lives_ we're affecting with our decisions!"

_I needed you to break your promise to me. You never would've found happiness otherwise._

Albert set his teacup down on its matching saucer and stood from his chair. He studied his younger brother's face. So alike, yet worlds apart. Maybe if they were born underneath different stars without the Silverberg family name, things would've been different.

There was much to be done, and some of the work was dirty. If it meant selling his own soul to save his brother's, that was the price he was willing to pay.

"No. We promised to become great _Silverberg_ strategists."

"And?! What's your point, Albert?"

"I am a Silverberg strategist. I kept my promise. _You_… you are a great strategist, Caesar. Not a great Silverberg."


End file.
